WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
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Chapter 404: Wind from High Places (2)
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Serving in war had been a royal duty since ancient times. The King of Spain meant to fulfill the duty entrusted to him by encouraging the soldiers of the Independent Battalion. The soldiers drew strength from the king's cheers as he moved up and down the marching column. More than a few smiled whenever the little king passed by, wagging his short tail.
At least for the first hour.
Half the route was uphill. It was a mountain road that kept climbing for nine miles, about fourteen kilometers. Long slopes that sometimes neared fifty degrees drained the soldiers' stamina at a brutal pace. I want to sit down right now. I want to roll off the side of the road and pretend it was an accident. It feels like I've been walking forever. Is the next break still not here...? For those whose minds were filled with thoughts like that, even the king's cuteness was no help.
And by the time two hours had passed, the king himself was worn out and drooping.
It was only natural. The king, worn down by a long life on the run, had poor joints. That was also a chronic problem for dachshunds. On top of that, he had followed Gyeoul back and forth along the six-hundred-meter column, so his actual walking distance was several times longer than an ordinary soldier's.
In the end, Gyeoul picked the king up.
An officer's pack was heavier than average. Add a dog weighing more than ten kilograms to that, plus the packs he briefly carried for soldiers who looked ready to collapse, and the soldiers watching Gyeoul tried to pull themselves together one more time.
'This is... harder than expected.'
In addition to earning the soldiers' trust, Gyeoul meant to confirm the limits of his current stamina. After the drop into Ground Zero, there was no telling what might happen. He wanted to know how much weight he could carry through rugged mountain terrain, and how far he could move comfortably while relying on sight. Even apart from the system, experience as knowledge helped 「Insight」 work.
Fortunately, he was used to enduring pain.
Even with wind mixed with powdery perennial snow striking him, the sweat on his skin felt hot.
Nngh, whine.
The King of Spain burrowed into Gyeoul's arms. He was a dog who felt the cold easily. Even dressed in hooded clothes and thick little shoes, the strain of the hard mountain hike had him making pained sounds. It looked as if Gyeoul would have to share more body heat until the dog recovered some stamina.
"Commander."
When Gyeoul turned at the call, Yura was holding her arms out to him.
"Give him to me. I'll carry him."
Gyeoul looked between the exhausted Yura and the dog beginning to doze, then shook his head.
"It's fine. He's not that heavy."
"Please. I was the one who said we should bring His Majesty. I should take responsibility."
"I would have brought him even if you hadn't, Lieutenant. I heard he made quite a scene."
"..."
Yura fell silent. Sweat beaded like dew and fell from beneath her chin.
A dog who had been abandoned once hated being left behind anywhere. He only calmed down when at least one familiar face stayed with him, no matter whose it was. The National Guard soldier who had looked after the King of Spain during the previous march had said, with some distress, that His Majesty had cried a great deal.
Yura seemed to have felt something beyond pity there. A sense of kinship.
Before that, when Gyeoul had made Yura the same offer he had made Jin-seok, a transfer to another unit, she had refused so firmly that she was almost angry. She said they would live together if they lived, and die together if they died. In the end, Gyeoul could not break her resolve.
'I was hoping either Captain Park or Lieutenant Lee would accept.'
It was a shame.
Among the officers of the former independent company, on the other hand, Third Platoon Leader Seonwoo Joseph and Fourth Platoon Leader Cheon So-min had chosen transfer without hesitation. It was not simply because they were timid. The two had earned the firm dislike of the company commander and the senior platoon leader, so even if they had not feared the airborne operation, they had reason enough to want to move to another unit.
One of the people who filled those vacancies was Ensign Kang Seon-yeol. Back when he had been in the old Korean military, his rank had been higher than it was now, but he did not seem too dissatisfied. He had gained the U.S. military status and citizenship he had dreamed of, and had joined Gyeoul's famous Independent Battalion.
Gyeoul said, "I don't plan to force people or animals apart. If they want to go together, they should."
"I see..."
"Yes. So just don't fall behind."
"Yes, sir. I'll do my best not to be a burden."
After the layered exchange, Yura managed a faint smile despite the strain on her body.
The Independent Battalion took its third rest at the watershed of Mosquito Mountain. It was roughly the midpoint of the march route and came just after the last major hurdle, so the break would be a little longer. The soldiers took off their combat boots and socks, bared their feet, and sighed almost as one. The road ahead was almost entirely downhill now. With trembling legs and scraped-raw feet, though, even walking down a slope would not be easy.
Gyeoul caught his breath while leaning against a sign put up by the U.S. Forest Service. The old sign, covered in graffiti from passing hikers, stated that their current position was 13,185 feet above sea level. The sign was shaped like a wagon because this road had once been used to transport gold. As proof, the ruins of an old mine remained on the far side of the barren land. The half-collapsed wooden building looked like a record carved by the wind and rain of passing years. Seeing it, Gyeoul sank into an unfamiliar feeling.
'Ruins feel strange to me now.'
He felt anew how distant the apocalypse had become.
If they found the original form of the plague at Ground Zero and finally created a vaccine, humanity's remaining territories would be completely free from the threat of sudden outbreaks. Would that be when the possibility of apocalypse converged endlessly toward zero?
On the other hand, there was also a chance they might fail to find the original form of the plague even at the source of infection. Whatever state it had been stored in, its preservation period would not be permanent.
The more he thought it over, the harsher the conditions seemed. A country intact enough to conduct research had to remain, they had to break through countless variants and find the original form, and on top of all that, there was a time limit.
No wonder nobody was known to have ended the apocalypse.
Arf! Arf!
The dachshund, having regained his energy, slipped out of Gyeoul's arms. Gyeoul unwrapped the pet jerky he had packed separately and put it in the dachshund's mouth. Excited, the dog wagged his tail and bounced left and right. Then he scampered among the officers and soldiers cooling their feet. But nobody had the energy to play with him, so the dog's wagging tail slowed, and he avoided Jin-seok's irritated look to approach Yura. Yura was the kindest person to the King of Spain. She had just checked on the condition of her platoon members and lain down, but when the dachshund licked her cheek, she struggled to sit up.
The dachshund nudged Yura's canteen with the tip of his nose.
"Want some water?"
Yura cupped one hand and poured water into it. But the dog, excited again and hopping around, bumped into her other hand. The one holding the canteen.
"Ah..."
The water spilled. Yura froze like a stone statue. The dachshund tried to set the fallen canteen upright, then quickly realized something had gone very wrong and instinctively fled. He ran toward the one person he believed ranked above Yura in this group. In other words, toward Gyeoul.
Yura got angry a beat late.
"Your Majestyyyyyyyy!"
Yip! The dog heard the razor-sharp shout and hid behind Gyeoul's legs. His tail was lowered and the fur on his head stood on end. He really did seem frightened. Gyeoul could not help laughing at the sudden little farce.
Yura's canteen was refilled with spare water from the ambulance.
Gyeoul did not sit still even during the break. He used 「First Aid」 to look after the soldiers' feet. The medics checked the soldiers in especially bad condition, but even though the break was relatively long, it was still only twenty minutes. There was no way to tend to all five hundred people. The soldiers' self-treatment was often rough. Skill was one issue, but their stamina had been drained so badly that they had no room to be delicate. The more helping hands, the better.
Bravo Company. The Chinese soldier whose foot Gyeoul ended up treating did not know what to do with himself.
"Thank you, senior."
"Senior?"
"Ah, I made a mistake. Sir."
Chinese and English honorifics had tangled into a mess. It was a mistake born of nerves.
Regardless of nationality, the other soldiers' reactions were mostly similar. Gyeoul reassured them with a gentle smile. Conflict based on country of origin still remained in every company, but Gyeoul alone had to win the hearts of every member of the battalion. Only then could they reduce meaningless losses in actual combat.
Wang Kechai, Bravo Company's First Platoon Leader, said, "It's like seeing Chairman Mao during the Long March."
Gyeoul, who had been treating his foot, paused. He had been reminded of Changcheng 9, the submarine named after Mao Zedong's Long March. Changcheng 9, the target of Operation Fair Strike, had eventually been sunk by Commander Umehara Atsu's Jinryu, but by then General Yang Yongbin's nuclear terrorism had already taken place. If not for that, Commander Umehara would have been treated as an American hero.
It would have been a delicate thing if someone from another country had said it, but coming from the Chinese Wang Kechai, it was the highest possible praise. Gyeoul disinfected the spot where he had wiped away the blood and answered calmly.
"I'm not sure what to say when you compare me to a historical figure."
"You are already a great historical figure yourself. In fact, future generations may remember your name more than Chairman Mao's."
"I don't know about that..."
"Thank you for always helping us. If not for you, nobody would have helped us. We would all have died after getting swept up in the madness of bastards like Yang Yongbin and Xieru."
"..."
Among Chinese citizens and refugees, the names Yang Yongbin and Xieru were being used like curses. In the past, there had certainly been groups that supported Yang Yongbin, but Lieutenant General Xieru's testimony in court had changed even their minds. In the lieutenant general's statement, they had been nothing more than tools to be used up and discarded. In truth, that had been Yang Yongbin's strategy.
"That's enough. Try moving."
After wrapping the wound in a pressure bandage and checking whether it was uncomfortable to move, Gyeoul finished the treatment, wiped his hands, and stood. The dachshund sniffed Wang Kechai's foot and jumped back in horror. Wang Kechai looked up at Gyeoul.
"I will repay your trust without fail on this mission."
"I'll be expecting it."
As his superior officer, Gyeoul patted him on the shoulder.
At the tail end of the break, they could see the marching columns of the Russian airborne troops approaching from far away. According to the training plan, they should have departed an hour after the Independent Battalion, but the remaining gap was only about thirty minutes. More than the Russians' superior stamina, the cause was the battle of pride going on between the Russian officers and the American officers.
Major General Cole Rogers, the superior who would once again serve with Gyeoul as commander of the joint task force for the Ground Zero Vacuum, seemed to be losing patience with the issue.
After the break, the Independent Battalion went straight to Alma, their destination, without resting again.
The reason a settlement had formed deep in the mountains at an elevation of 3,158 meters was the open-pit mine right beside it. They said it no longer produced gold, but carbonates containing other metals were still extracted in large quantities. Given America's situation, in which most resources had to be self-supplied, heavy investment was being made in this town's mine as well.
The Independent Battalion completed its personnel check in the open lot beside that mine. The march had taken even longer than before, but the number of dropouts had fallen impressively. Gyeoul decided to be satisfied with that. In real combat, one dropout would likely mean one missing person.
To Jin-seok, though, it was enough to make him angry.
Gyeoul was about to quietly call to him as he approached the soldiers, but changed his mind. It felt like too much interference in the authority of a company commander. He could watch for a while, and if it truly seemed wrong, it would not be too late to speak to him separately then. Jin-seok put his hands on both sides of his waist in front of the soldiers who were barely standing.
"I am disappointed in you!"
It was not Jin-seok's voice.
"...?"
Jin-seok, who had just been about to be disappointed, turned to find the person who had raised their voice.
The disappointed person was the new Third Platoon Leader, Ensign Kang Seon-yeol.
Ensign Kang invoked the honor of the Independent Battalion and the expectations of Battalion Commander Gyeoul, insisting that the soldiers ought to be ashamed. They must not tarnish the reputation of the war hero Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul.
"..."
Jin-seok's expression as he watched was strange.
Ensign Kang was a military academy graduate. During his time in the Korean military, his rank had been lieutenant, and he had also served as temporary company commander in place of a superior officer who had died in battle.
That was why the soldiers of the former independent company, now Alpha Company, whispered that the original had appeared. Some also whispered that Jin-seok had gained another rival.
Together with his staff, Gyeoul approached Major General Rogers, who had come to meet them.
"Good work."
The major general greeted Gyeoul with his unchanged dryness, then looked over the condition of the troops who had arrived.
"They still have a long way to go."
It was a brief assessment. Gyeoul nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"Will they be combat-ready on schedule?"
"I'll make it happen."
"I trust you."
The major general, hands clasped behind his back, walked slowly through the disordered ranks. The staff and Gyeoul followed behind him. The soldiers stiffened at the appearance of a star, but the general did not speak to them directly.
At the staff's instructions, warm tea was given to the soldiers.
This town had no separate garrison prepared, so the battalion was scheduled to wait for transport vehicles with the airborne troops and return together. Major General Rogers, who had been examining the mountain road the Russian airborne troops were descending through binoculars, threw out an indifferent question as if it had just occurred to him.
"You. Do you like vodka?"
"...Excuse me?"
As Gyeoul asked back in confusion, the general repeated the same words without expression.
"I asked if you like vodka."
Footnotes:
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